It Never Happened
by NettieC
Summary: Harm's illness turns his world upside down. Can he find the truth? Can he find Mac? Can he survive?
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer: I don't own them, just having fun. **_

_**For MarineMom with love.**_

_**------------------------------------------------------------------**_

Harm awoke on a clear, crisp Tuesday morning feeling the worse for wear. He was experiencing a classic case of 'the morning after'. Unfortunately for the Commander it came without the night before. It was the flu. His head hurt, his throat hurt, he was cold and he was hot. He looked at the clock and tried to focus. After five minutes he gave up and guessed it was about 0700.

Although he would have much preferred to stay in bed he dragged himself up. He had a heavy workload for the day ahead, including a 0915 court date with an unsympathetic judge who would not allow another continuance. He showered, shaved and dressed, swallowed a handful of aspirin and headed out the door. _I bet this is how it feels to be hit by a bus, _he mumbled to himself as he left.

Admiral Chegwidden was surprised with Harm's appearance and by the time of day.

"Rabb, you sick?" he asked by way of greeting when he spied Harm crossing the bullpen.

"I've been better, sir. What gave it away?" Harm replied, more shuffling than walking.

"Well, you look dreadful for one and it's 0620. I've never known you to be early in your life, let alone by two hours." The Admiral studied the younger man closely.

"Sorry sir, but the…" Harm began to cough violently.

"Commander, take yourself to the doctor and then to bed. I don't want to see you back until you're well – understood?" he ordered and although quiet in volume it still made Harm's ears hurt.

"Yes sir," Harm mumbled.

"I can't afford to have an office full of sick people with the workload we have on. Go," he instructed.

"Yes dear," Harm muttered trudging to the door.

"Yes who?" The Admiral looked bemused.

"Sir, yes sir."

A trip to the doctor, to the drug store and then to bed did wonders for the Commander's health. The next day he was much improved and by the third day he felt well enough to return to work. He showered, dressed accordingly and went into the office feeling refreshed and ready to take on the challenges ahead.

At first, all seemed well, quite normal. As Harm made his way to his own office he glanced into Mac's. She wasn't there. Upon the wall behind the desk was a framed photograph of the USS Bennington. _I wonder where she got that from _he thought to himself. He couldn't figure out why a marine would have anything Navy on display.

Harm caught a look at the name plate on her door. _Commander Elizabeth Watkins_ screamed out at him.

"Where's Mac?" he asked Sturgis who had emerged from his own office.

"Good morning to you too, Harm. Feeling better?" Sturgis asked, patting Harm's arm.

"Good morning, Sturgis. Yeah, fine. Where's Mac? And who is this Commander Elizabeth Watkins?" Harm asked, his mind swirling in confusion.

"Well, last question first buddy, Commander Watkins has been here at JAG a little over two months. She came from an in-country posting in Afghanistan. Ring any bells?" Sturgis reported, concerned by his friend's vagueness.

"No," Harm said, shaking his head vigorously.

"Surely it must Harm. You have only been on sick leave for three days, not three months," he said.

"Where's Mac?" Harm was insistent.

"Who?" Sturgis was puzzled.

"Colonel Sarah MacKenzie. Mac. God, Sturgis, you know who I'm talking about," Harm begged, his voice becoming raised.

"Sorry, Harm, I don't know anybody by that name," Sturgis replied.

"Sure you do. She's been here for eight years – this is her office." He gestured wildly toward the nearby office.

"Harm, I have been here for four years and there's never been a MacKenzie here. Before Commander Watkins this office was Commander Manetti's and before that Lieutenant Singer's," Sturgis explained emphatically.

"Enough, Sturgis! What is this, April Fool's Day?" Harm was becoming quite distressed.

"Harm, calm down. Perhaps you are still unwell. I honestly have no idea who you are talking about." Sturgis went to pat Harm's shoulder but he shrugged it off.

"Well, I'm sure the Admiral will." He stormed off.

Harm charged into the Admiral's office without knocking or permission.

"Forgotten rules of protocol in your absence," said the Admiral without looking up.

"No, sir. Sorry, sir. I was just anxious," Harm said shuffling his feet.

"Anxious about what?" The Admiral looked up at Harm over the rim of his glasses.

"Sir, Colonel MacKenzie, where is she?" Harm pleaded; his stomach twisting as he spoke.

"Who?" He put down his pen and stared at the Commander.

"Oh, sir, don't you start! Mac? Sarah MacKenzie? There's a Commander Watkins in her office and Sturgis reckons he's never heard of her. Sir, you must know who I mean." Harm was pleading.

"MacKenzie, MacKenzie," the Admiral repeated to himself. "I knew a Jack McKenzie out at Andrews once and a MacKenzie Brockman off the Watertower, but as for a Colonel, did you say? A Colonel Sarah MacKenzie, I must say no."

"No! What do you mean no? You think of her as a daughter. You must know her!" Harm moved forward, slamming his hands down on the desk before him.

"Commander Rabb, I have a daughter – Francesca. Who is this MacKenzie of yours?" The Admiral retorted, getting to his feet.

"She's a marine colonel. She's a JAG lawyer. She's one of us. She's been here for eight years," Harm reeled off, distressed at the lack of recognition on his boss' face.

"Rabb, I think you need to go back to the doctor. You seem somewhat delusional," he said, moving from behind the desk and ushering Harm towards the door.

"With all due respect, sir, I'm fine. At least I will be when I get some answers." He turned on his heel and headed to his office.

xhxaxrxmxxxrxoxcxkxsx

Harm spent the day reviewing personnel lists and work schedules, interviewing staff and watching security tapes. He could find no evidence of Mac at all. Not a picture, not a file note, not a recollection. He questioned Bud and Harriet for nearly an hour but they provided no assistance. Harm felt he was well and truly on his own.

Desperate, he tried Mac's phone number again; there was still no answer and no answering machine. He tried her cell phone but it was off. Her pager drew no response. He rang directory assistance to verify her details but they had no such listing. He asked them to check all records but nothing could be found under the name of Sarah MacKenzie.

Frantically he left the office and drove to her apartment. All the while he kept telling himself there would be a logical explanation for it all. He knew anything could have happened in his three day absence. She could be working with the CIA on a "need to know" basis – damn Webb, that would be his next port of call. She could have gone into Witness Protection – anything.

Harm pulled his Lexus into her street and slammed on the brakes. Where he was expecting to see Mac's apartment building he found a row of terrace houses. He got out of his vehicle and looked at the surrounds. Everything else was where it should be – right down to the misshapen oak tree on the corner.

"Ma'am," he called to a woman about to enter one of the houses, "could you please tell me how long these houses have been here?"

"Well, sir, I have lived here fifteen years next summer and they were here way before me. I expect they've been here about forty years or so." With that she went on her way.

Harm got back in his vehicle and tried to figure it out. How could someone just disappear? None of it made sense. "A dream," he shouted to himself, "it's a dream. Wake up you idiot!" he ordered himself. He pinched his arm, then his leg. He opened his water bottle and threw the contents at his face. All to no avail. It wasn't a dream.

His cell phone rang twice before he answered it.

"Commander, where the hell are you?" The Admiral bellowed down the line.

"Sir, I'm trying to find Mac but there's no trace and…" he began in his own defence.

"That's because she doesn't exist. She's probably someone you invented during your fever – a figment of your imagination," the Admiral said, frustration clearly evident in his voice.

"But sir, it's so real. She's real, I know it," Harm pleaded, he wasn't ready to give up on this just yet.

"Rabb, are you deluded?"

"No, Sir."

"Running a fever?"

"No, Sir."

"Hallucinating?"

"No, Sir?"

"Well, if you don't get your ass back in this office in the next twenty minutes, your mysterious Colonel won't be the only one MIA from this office," he roared before slamming down the phone.

"Yes, Sir."


	2. Chapter 2

_**Disclaimer: I don't own them, just having fun. **_

_**For MarineMom with love. **_

_**I thought I'd update quickly before Nat pulls all her hair out! **_

_**------------------------------------------------------------------**_

On his way back to JAG Headquarters, Harm took one last chance and rang Webb.

"Webb, I'm looking for Mac. Do you know anything?"

Webb was his usual non-committal self. "Mac? Don't know a Mac. Should I?"

"I should damn well think so. You've been sleeping with her for the best part of six months now."

"Rabb, I don't know who you are getting your information from but I've been seeing a woman by the name of Vanessa Ingram – not that it is any of your business, and I have been for just over a year now. Who is this Mac, anyhow?" he asked coolly.

"Colonel Sarah MacKenzie – JAG Lawyer, except I can't find a trace of her anywhere. I need to find her." Harm thumped his hands on the steering wheel in frustration.

"I'll run a check and get back to you if I find anything."

Harm was back in the office with less than a minute to spare. He sat at his desk and shuffled papers, all the while willing the phone to ring. When it did he snatched the receiver out of its cradle at lightning speed. "Webb, please tell me you've found something, anything."

"Harm, I found only one listing for a female marine by the name of MacKenzie. It's a Major Meaghan MacKenzie working in logistics out of New York."

Harm hung up the phone in disbelief. _Maybe the Admiral was right,_ he conceded, _maybe she was a figment of my imagination. No one could be so beautiful and so perfect in real life._ He tried to push her out of his mind but it was a useless task.

Later that evening, Harm returned to his apartment bewildered. He wasn't prepared to let Mac go, not just yet. He searched his home for some tangible proof she had existed. He grabbed the photo album; certain the photographs of little AJ's christening would be evidence enough. It wasn't to be. Standing next to a smiling Harm and between the proud parents was the Admiral holding his namesake. The photo from Afghanistan he had treasured had Harm and Lieutenant Commander Teresa Coulter. He scanned every album, every personal item he had. He searched for a photo, a card, a strand of hair but his search was fruitless. Harm's only evidence of Mac's existence was in his heart. He knew she lived there – he knew she owned it.

He lay in bed that night with a terrible aching. What was he missing? The hours passed and Harm was no closer to an answer. In the early morning he awoke feeling very hot. "Damn thermostat," he said to the empty apartment. He dragged himself out of bed and stumbled to the control panel on the kitchenette wall. As he fumbled in the darkness he heard a noise behind him. In his half-asleep state, and with the lack of light, Harm couldn't see the face of the person before him. His last conscious recollections were of this man telling him to forget all about Mac and then the searing pain as a bullet tore through his body.

In what seemed like slow motion, Harm slid to the floor in silence. The cold tiles providing some comfort to his fever ravaged body. He tried to call out but had no voice. With his energy spent he closed his eyes and then there was nothing.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Waking, sometime later, Harm had a terrible thirst. He summoned his strength and stretched out to the refrigerator door. He swung it opened and looked inside. Everything he wanted was beyond his reach. He grabbed the bottom shelf and rattled the fridge. The milk on the top shelf toppled over causing a domino effect. The milk, the water jug, Italian dressing and a carton of six eggs all came down on upon the prostrate Commander. Lying there in the messy pool Harm thought to himself _That's another sticky situation you've got yourself into Rabb._ He smiled at the thought that his sense of humour was still intact and then lost consciousness.

It was in this position, among the mess Harm was discovered late on Friday afternoon. The building superintendent, Ray Zale, had been concerned Harm's vehicle had not moved all week, and although it was common during his many years as a tenant, this time it felt different.

Ray stood at Harm's door and knocked loudly and repeatedly. "Commander Rabb, are you there? Rabb, open up!" But there was no response. He took out a huge set of keys and found the tag identifying the one for Harm's front door. Just as he put the key into the lock Bud appeared on the stairwell. "Hello, can I help you?" Bud asked.

"Who are you?" Ray asked eyeing the uniformed man in front of him.

"Lieutenant Bud Roberts, I'm a friend of Commander Rabb's. Who are you?" Bud asked.

"I'm the building super, Ray Zale. Listen, I was going in there because things don't feel right. My wife tells me he's been home all week and yet I haven't seen him. I thought she was mistaken but she's been insistent. I finally decided to come up and check it out. Do you know if he is supposed to be in?" Ray asked.

"Yeah, he is. The Admiral sent him home Tuesday morning, he had the flu. We haven't heard from him since."

"Tuesday morning, huh?" They looked at each other. Ray turned the key and the door opened. The first thing that struck them was the smell. Ray gagged. "Commander! Harm!" Bud called out into the silent apartment.

"There he is," Ray pointed to the crumpled body lying on the kitchen floor, covered in rotting eggs surrounded by a pool of sour milk.

"Commander! Sir!" Bud moved to him frightened by the sight before him.

He reached down expecting Harm to be cold to touch but found he was hot. Finding his pulse Bud let out the breath that had been stuck in his chest. "Ray, call 911! He's alive."

When the paramedics arrived Bud had never been so glad to see anyone in his life. They took charge of the situation and began asking Bud and Ray many questions that neither of them could answer. They couldn't provide much more information than what they had discovered that afternoon.

"Well, I understand you not knowing, Ray, but aren't you a friend?" The younger paramedic looked directly at Bud. "Who was looking after him when he went home sick?"

"Ah, no one. We've been so busy and the Commander usually calls if he needs anything," Bud tried to explain but he already felt as guilty as hell.

"Yeah! Well maybe the Commander couldn't. Looks to me like he has been on this floor since Tuesday."

"How do you figure that?" asked Ray feeling badly he hadn't listened to his wife.

"The medication - he should have taken it three times a day. It was dispensed Tuesday morning and if he followed doctor's orders he would have had the first two at lunchtime. There are only two missing – he never got to dinnertime. Besides the tissues and lozenges he bought at the same time are here, unopened."

As the paramedics moved Harm to the stretcher Bud saw the pressure sores which had appeared on his joints. Bud felt physically ill. How could Harm have been in trouble for so long and no one realised? He knew he'd never forgive himself. Bud insisted he go with the ambulance and ignored the looks the paramedics gave one another, that to him said _Now he wants to be his friend. _"Take him to Bethesda," was Bud's only comment.

Upon their arrival, Harm was rushed away and within minutes was hooked up to an array of machines. Bud wanted to get some sort of idea as to the Commander's condition before he called the others. He patiently waited in the corridor. Nearly half an hour later a doctor appeared. "Hello, my name is Commander Noel McEntee. I am the doctor attending Commander Rabb. I believe you came in with him."

"Ah, yes, Sir. Lieutenant Bud Roberts," Bud replied getting to his feet.

"Well, Lieutenant I must say that the Commander is a very sick man," the doctor reported.

"Is he going to make it?" Bud asked before he could stop himself.

"I can't make that promise. Commander Rabb has been very ill for a while now and has been left untreated. It would seem that he has been unconscious since Tuesday and that is a huge concern. He is spiking a temperature of 105 and if that's consistent with what's been happening to his body in the last 72 or so hours then brain damage and kidney failure are real possibilities." The doctor scanned Harm's chart.

"When will we know?" Bud asked, swallowing the bile rising in his throat.

"I don't know. I have him on an IV drip with plenty of antibiotics. We need to replace his lost fluids. The initial kidney function tests do not look promising but it's still early days." The doctor took a look at Bud's face. "Lieutenant, we are doing the very best we can but I suggest that if there are family and friends you need to call for the Commander, then you do that now."


	3. Chapter 3

_**Disclaimer: I don't own them, just having fun. **_

_**For aserene – anyone who studies Calculus deserves all the fanfic updates they can get!**_

_**------------------------------------------------------------------**_

Bud's mind was racing. He had never imagined he would have to make this phone call when he drove to the Commander's apartment that afternoon. With hands trembling he called the office.

"Admiral Chegwidden, please." He waited, telling himself to breathe…willing himself to get the words out that he still couldn't believe.

"Chegwidden."

"Sir, Admiral, it's Bud, oh, Lieutenant Roberts," he stammered.

"What is it Mr Roberts?"

"Oh, sir." He struggled to get the words out.

"Roberts?"

"Sir, Commander Rabb is not very well," he said finally.

"Well, that's why I sent him home on Tuesday. He should be feeling somewhat better by now – it has been three days," the Admiral replied.

"No, sir." Bud then related the news to the Admiral of how their friend and colleague was seriously ill, how he had found him in the apartment, how Commander McEntee had instructed Bud to call in family and friends because he wasn't sure of the outcome.

After the Admiral hung up he buzzed Coates and asked her to get Turner, MacKenzie and Sims into his office. When all were present the Admiral began. "I've just a phone call from Lieutenant Roberts, out at Bethesda."

"Bethesda! What's wrong with him?" Harriet was concerned; Bud had said nothing about a hospital trip.

"Bud's fine Harriet, unfortunately Commander Rabb is not," he continued.

"What's wrong with him?" Sturgis asked, getting a bad feeling about the gathering.

"It would appear that not that long after getting home on Tuesday, Commander Rabb collapsed unconscious on his kitchen floor. He was still there this afternoon when he was found by Bud and the building superintendent," he said, not looking at anyone directly.

"Oh, God!" Mac cried.

"What are the doctors saying?" asked Sturgis.

"They are making no promises. They are concerned about the length of time he has been unconscious. He has pressure sores down the entire left hand side of his body. They have serious concerns in regards to brain damage and kidney function; he is still running a very high temperature. In short, the Commander is gravely ill and the doctor called for family and friends to be notified." Admiral Chegwidden shifted uncomfortably in his chair, an unfamiliar sense of fear settling within him.

Harriet sunk down into the chair. "Oh no, no, they only call for family and friends when they think it's the end; to give them a chance to say goodbye. It can't be right. The Commander can't die."

"Harriet, he might not die but the doctor believes that the 72 or so hours between him becoming so ill and getting to the hospital indicates there is a high possibility that Harm will not make a full recovery at any rate," the Admiral explained calmly.

"Do you mean that if I had called in on Tuesday afternoon like I had originally intended – things could have been different." Harriet said in barely a whimper. The Admiral shrugged. "I was going to," she continued, "but little AJ had a performance at school and the baby was sick. I just thought I'd leave it until Wednesday and then…"

"Lieutenant, we all have reasons why we didn't go – it just doesn't change the outcome. Some friends we are," said Sturgis and he left the office.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

With the office secured for the week, the Admiral was the last one to join the group at Bethesda. Harm's mother and step-father were somewhere in the Pacific Ocean on an anniversary cruise and the Admiral had put off calling them until there was something more concrete to tell them. They stood or sat around the waiting room and made an eclectic family. There was no one there actually related to Harm and after their actions, or inactions, during the week, few would consider themselves friends. Mac had been out at Quantico since Monday 1400 and had returned home that morning. But she felt as guilty as the rest of them. She had made no effort to call him even though she knew he was on sick leave.

Their last conversation at Monday lunch had been one of acrimony - something quite typical of late. Harm's last words to her had been "Go to hell." She had stormed out vowing their friendship was over. It was during her few days away she had realised the acrimony was largely due to her. She had constantly brought up topics that would get his back up and then would push and push until he'd snap; then she'd feel vindicated. Mac had decided that upon her return she would make amends. Now she was left wondering if it was all too late.

The waiting seemed endless and the little information that got through did nothing to brighten the mood. It was 2130 when Mac approached the nurses' station. The two women there were chatting and didn't notice her approach.

"I've heard of things like this before," said the blonde nurse, "you know, where they find bodies after ten years or so."

"I know what you mean," replied the brunette. "But I certainly wouldn't have believed a serving naval commander could be unconscious for four days and no one was any the wiser."

"It makes you wonder as to what sort of man the Commander is. Doesn't seem to have any family and no real friends to talk about," said the blonde.

"Shame, isn't it? No one deserves to end up the way he did – even if he is a horrible person."

"He's not a horrible person," Mac retorted, tears streaming down her face. "He is a wonderful person with many excellent qualities – his choice of friends is another matter."

"Sorry, Ma'am, we didn't mean it," said the blonde.

"You didn't mean what you said or for me to overhear it?" Mac asked.

"Both. We are so sorry. Can we do anything for you?" asked the brunette.

Mac just shook her head – the truth does hurt. "Can you please just see if the Commander's condition has changed?"

"One minute, ma'am. Commander McEntee will be out presently."

When the doctor came out he was shuffling papers and making notes. He leant upon the nurses' station muttering to himself.

"Commander McEntee," said the blonde nurse nodding to where Mac stood.

"Oh, Colonel, I didn't see you there," the doctor remarked moving towards her.

"What can you tell me about Harm's condition?" she asked.

"Nothing positive, I'm afraid. Commander Rabb is in a coma. His temperature is sitting at 102. We are pumping fluids into him but he is not producing any of his own. His kidney function is virtually non-existent and I am waiting for a Renal consultation. I think dialysis is the only option at this stage."

"Dialysis! For how long?" Mac asked, a wave of nausea sweeping through her.

"Colonel, the dialysis will take over from the kidneys to filter his blood. The hope is that if his body gets stronger the kidneys will begin to function normally," Dr McEntee said

"If?" she exclaimed.

"Colonel MacKenzie, I think you need to prepare yourself for what well may be a negative outcome. While there is a _possibility_the Commander will come out of this, in all _probability_ it won't happen." He placed the chart on the desk.

"When can I see him?" asked Mac.

"The nurse will come out and get you soon."

Entering Harm's room, Mac was overwhelmed by the sight. Harm's big, strong body, one she had always admired and relied upon seemed frail and dwarfed by the medical technology surrounding it. There were tubes and wires over all parts of his body. There were two IV drips, cold compresses, a nasal cannula providing him oxygen and the beeping of the heart monitor to contend with. Resisting the urge to run from the distressing sight, Mac made her way to the bed.

"Can he hear me?" she asked the nurse.

"Quite possibly," she replied.

"Harm," she whispered into his ear. "It's time to wake up." She kissed his forehead and was surprised by the heat.

"He's so hot," she said.

"He's still running a fever. We are trying to bring it down but it hasn't happened yet," the nurse reported.

Mac picked up an ice cube from the cup and ran it over his face, it melted quickly. She bent down. "Come on, Flyboy, enough's enough. Wake up." She kissed his lips, they were like sandpaper. She picked up another ice cube and ran it over his lips. She thought she saw his mouth curl slightly, but she couldn't be sure.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Are we still confused about Mac, people?**


	4. Chapter 4

_**Disclaimer: I don't own them, just having fun. **_

_**For all those reading and not reviewing, I know you are out there...feel free to drop me a line! **_

_**------------------------------------------------------------------**_

**Sunday 1530**

"Colonel MacKenzie, excuse me Colonel MacKenzie." The nurse was shaking her gently.

"Sorry, what is it?" Mac asked groggily.

"Commander McEntee would like to see you right now. He's in with Commander Rabb."

Mac raced to the room. Her heart pounding against her ribs and her mind was spinning. The others had gone to the cafeteria, she was on her own.

She stood at the door and took several deep breaths to compose herself. Mac gently eased the door open. "Commander, you wanted to see me."

"Yes, Colonel, come in. I have some positive news for you this afternoon. Commander Rabb's vital signs are stronger and more stable and he is no longer running a temperature," the doctor reported.

"Does that mean he is out of danger?" Mac asked breathlessly.

"I wouldn't go that far at this stage, but I'm more confident he will survive the illness. However, the extent of the damage caused by it is yet to be ascertained."

He left the room. Mac sat beside the bed feeling relieved and scared at the same time. She held Harm's hand with one of hers and stroked his hair with the other. He was cooler to touch but his skin and lips still bore the evidence of the heat which had seared his body. Mac took out her tube of Vitamin E moisturiser from her bag and began to gently massage it into his hands and arms and face. Then she took out her lip balm and applied it to his lips, she had always remembered them as being so smooth and soft.

"A bit of nail polish and he's done, Mac." It was the Admiral.

"Oh, no sir, I …um… his skin was so dry. I thought…" Mac stumbled to explain.

"No need to explain, Colonel. How is he?" he asked.

"His fever has broken, his vitals have improved and the doctor is more confident about his prospects…" her voice trailed off.

"But," the Admiral said. "I know there's a but coming."

"But they still don't know the extent of the damage to his brain and kidneys. He isn't out of the woods yet." She sighed sadly.

"He's come this far, Mac. That's a good sign." The Admiral patted her arm.

"And he's done it on his own." Mac added sitting back in the chair. "I can't believe he spent four days on the floor. I just feel so bad."

"You feel bad? I sent him home," he replied.

"Sir, you weren't to know," Mac said, trying to alleviate the guilt she knew he felt.

"None of us were, Mac. You were away and…" The Admiral was trying to return the favour.

"I should have called him; I knew he was on sick leave. After all, I'm supposed to be his friend," Mac said.

"Yeah, well, I thought I was one too."

"Guilt trips all around I see," said Sturgis entering the room. "I guess I booked my ticket too. Harm and I were supposed to play basketball on Wednesday. When I heard he was out sick I decided to make alternative plans. I should have gone out to see him; perhaps much of this mess could have been avoided."

The three looked down on Harm. Nothing they could say or do would ever take away the gut wrenching feeling that if one of them had made the extra effort for their friend, he wouldn't be so sick. After a short lull to take stock of the situation, Sturgis offered coffee.

"No, I'll get it. I could do with a breather," Mac said standing up. She took a step and then swooned, grabbing the bed for support.

"Mac, what is it?" asked the Admiral jumping up to grab her.

"Here sit down," Sturgis moved the chair to her.

"It's okay. I'm fine." She waved away their assistance but then she realised she wasn't.

"Colonel, sit. That's an order."

Mac obeyed willingly and slumped forward putting her head in her hands.

"I'll get the nurse," said Sturgis moving to the door.

"No, don't. I'm just a little dizzy. Not enough sleep and I haven't eaten all day. I'll be okay," Mac said.

"When's the last time you slept?" Admiral Chegwidden asked.

"Thursday night," she answered.

"When's the last time you ate?" he asked.

"Probably Friday lunch," she replied. She knew she had eaten before they received news of Harm's condition but couldn't remember eating anything since.

"Well, at that rate Mac, it's amazing you're on your feet at all," Sturgis said.

"I couldn't leave him here alone, not after he was alone for so long. Someone at least has to be here when he wakes up," she said, blinking back the tears she knew weren't too far away.

"Colonel, I'm ordering you home. You will eat and sleep and not return until tomorrow," the Admiral said firmly. "Understood?"

"But sir," she began.

"No, but sir's. Sturgis will drive you home." His tone indicated there would be no argument.

Mac wanted to protest but she knew it would be to no avail. And Sturgis was right – if she continued like this she would be out on her feet. "Okay, I'll go – but only if you promise you'll stay with him."

"I promise – so long as you don't expect me to hold his hand and put lipstick on him," he replied, a grin on his tired face.

Mac smiled wearily. She stood, raked her fingers through his hair and kissed his forehead. "Wake up soon, Flyboy," she whispered. Sturgis put an arm around her and took her home.

Following the Admiral's orders she'd eaten and been in bed by eight. It was nearly midnight when the ringing phone woke her. She had slept for less than four hours and felt incredibly groggy. "MacKenzie," she muttered into the receiver. "Mac, it's Sturgis. I'm back downstairs. We need to get back to the hospital."

"What's happened?" she asked, suddenly wide awake.

"Not sure, only that we need to get back."

Mac threw on the first clothes she saw and ran down to the waiting car. She fired a range of questions at Sturgis but he knew nothing more. When they arrived at the hospital, Sturgis had to grab Mac's arm to stop her from jumping out of the car before he'd parked.

"Mac, calm down. This won't help either of you."

"Sturgis, he could be…be dead."

"Yes he could be. You killing yourself will not change that – will it?"

"I just…if anything…I mean, God, Sturgis, what if…?"

"Mac, let's just wait until we get in there, okay?"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx


	5. Chapter 5

_**Disclaimer: I don't own them, just having fun. **_

_**For SpecKay - sorry for scaring you!**_

_**See this is a quick update...for all those on the edge of their seats. **_

_**------------------------------------------------------------------**_

Sturgis and Mac walked in, his arm on her elbow, trying to keep her from running down the silent corridors. They met Bud, Harriet and the Admiral in the waiting room. "What is it, Admiral?" asked Sturgis.

"Well, it appears we may be getting some news," he replied, still pacing.

"Good news or bad news, sir?" Harriet asked scared of what the answer may be.

"Good, I think. I was sitting with the Commander and we were talking. Well, I was talking and he was listening. It was probably the first time I've been able to talk without him interrupting me."

"And?" Mac said impatiently.

"And," The Admiral looked at Mac, "and he squeezed my hand."

"He reached for your hand, sir?" asked Bud, moving to stand by his wife.

"No, I was holding his hand. I know I said I wouldn't…" He looked at Mac again, "but…"

"You don't have to explain, sir," said Sturgis.

"He squeezed your hand. That's a good sign," Mac said feeling hopeful for the first time.

"I thought so," Admiral Chegwidden smiled broadly, "Commander McEntee is in there now but I thought I'd get you in and we could hear it together." He sighed deeply. "One way or the other."

So the group waited and soon Commander McEntee joined them.

"How is he Commander?"

"Is he awake?"

"Can we see him?"

A barrage of questions met his arrival. The doctor held up his hands. "One at a time, folks, one at a time. Look, the Commander is still unconscious but is showing many positive signs. He is responding to pain and to touch but not yet to commands."

"But then again he never did," replied the Admiral.

"We are optimistic he will regain consciousness soon," the doctor added.

"What about brain damage?" asked Harriet.

"It's still too soon to tell, Lieutenant. When he regains consciousness we will be able to assess the extent to which his organs have been compromised."

"When. You said when instead of if. About time, doctor," said Sturgis.

"Your Commander is quite a remarkable man. He is a fighter. Most people would have given up by now but the Commander wants to come back to you. He's doing his best."

"That's our Commander," said Mac smiling. "What about his kidneys?"

"Still early days, Colonel. We still have him on dialysis. Getting him conscious is our first priority and then we'll deal with the rest."

"Can we see him?" she asked.

"Briefly. I think you all need more rest than the Commander."

Quietly they moved into his room. He looked much better than he had earlier. His colour was near normal and he looked as though he was just sleeping. Each friend said some words of encouragement to him in the hope he would hear it. Harriet kissed his cheek, Bud gave him a hug of sorts and Sturgis and the Admiral settled for a friendly pat on the arm.

When it was Mac's turn the others stood quietly. Each one of them knew she loved him and, despite his actions, they knew Harm loved her too. "Listen here, Sleeping Beauty, this has gone on long enough. It's late, we're all tired and you need to show us some consideration and wake up," she whispered to him. She gently kissed his lips and although he didn't wake up, she knew he had heard her.

"Alright, folks, time to go," said the doctor breaking up the gathering.

"Please, can I stay?" Mac asked looking from the Admiral to the doctor and back again. "He can't wake up alone, please." The men exchanged glances and agreed. When all had gone Mac settled herself into the easychair she had drawn up to Harm's bedside. She spent an hour chatting incessantly about trivial matters, hoping that the sound of her voice would wake him.

When this didn't work she drew back the covers and got into bed with him. She snuggled in beside him and rested her head on his chest. A nurse came in to check on him but seeing the cosy arrangement decided to let them be.

"Harm, I know you can hear me – so listen carefully," Mac said quietly. "Wherever you are right now, whatever is keeping you from coming back, it's not worth it. You need to come back to us, to me. Harm, I am so sorry we argued. It's all we seem to do lately and it's mostly my fault. I don't know why I do it, but I do." She paused and ran her fingers around his chest. "You need to come back to me. You are my best friend and a world without you in it is not a world I don't want to know. I want to see that smile you reserve just for me. You know the one that tells me that you care and that everything will be alright. I want to see that look on your face when you think I'm crazy. I want to see that look in your eyes when you see me – really see me. I should have told you many years ago that I love you, Harm, there have been countless opportunities since but one of us is forever running away. It has to stop. I love you." Mac repositioned herself so her head was on his shoulder. "You are my life, my world. You might hate me, you might never forgive me, and I'll find a way to live with that, I just can't live if you don't. Do you hear me Harmon Rabb Junior? I love you."

xxx

She closed her eyes and rested awhile but then Mac felt warm tears splashing her cheeks. She looked up to find they were Harm's and not hers. She pulled herself up on her elbow and turned into him.

"Harm?" His eyes remained closed. "Harm, I know you are there. Wake up." She patted his face. "Harm, sweetheart, wake up." He didn't respond.

She put a hand to his cheek and brushed away the tears. "Harm, it's ok. Whenever you're ready, I'm here for you." She drew a deep breath and waited.

To Mac it seemed an eternity but it wasn't. Within minutes Harm slowly opened his eyes. It took him awhile to focus. At first Mac thought he didn't recognise her. "Harm, welcome back, it's me, Mac." She stroked his hair.

He went to speak but no voice would come. She got up and got him some water. Harm took a long drink and Mac sat there willing him to speak.

He blinked his eyes a few times, as if he couldn't believe what was before him. "Harm, it's okay, it's me," Mac repeated.

Slowly he shook his head. "No, no it's not," he croaked.

"Yes it is. You're going to be fine."

Again he shook his head. "No…can't be…don't exist."

"Who doesn't exist?"

"You."

"Me! Sweetheart, I'm right here."

"No. Must be angel. Don't exist." Tears filled his eyes.

"Harm, it's okay. I'm real." She brought his hand to her face. "I'm here. I'm real." She kissed his hand and then his lips, he was still confused.

Commander McEntee came into the room and was pleased to see his patient conscious and communicating, even if it was not yet coherent. "The Commander has been through quite an ordeal Colonel. The mind plays all sorts of tricks during such fevers. It may take awhile, just give him a chance."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_**One chapter to go...** _


	6. Chapter 6

_**Disclaimer: I don't own them, just having fun. **_

_**For Teacup of JAG...whose stories are soooooo good!**_

_**Please read AN at the end... **_

_**------------------------------------------------------------------**_

After the doctor's departure, Mac settled back down into the bed. It had done the trick the first time and the doctor hadn't objected, so she felt she had nothing to lose. Soon they were both fast asleep. Mac awoke as the first rays of daylight entered the second floor window. She looked up at Harm and caressed his face. He was so beautiful she couldn't resist kissing his lips, gently first and then with greater passion. Harm opened his eyes.

"That's one way to wake up, I guess," he whispered.

"You guess?" Mac smiled, he was awake, her heart filled with joy.

"Ah ha."

"How are you feeling, Flyboy?"

"Like I've done ten rounds with Mike Tyson. I am so glad to see you."

"You had me worried for a moment there this morning. You didn't think I was real."

"Huh?"

"You kept saying I didn't exist. You weren't making much sense."

Harm closed his eyes in an effort to draw together his recollections. He opened his eyes when he felt her hands on his face.

"I couldn't find you. No-one had heard of you. You didn't exist," he began, his words becoming erratic. Mac sought to comfort him but nothing could take the despair from his eyes.

"I went to work after a few days sick leave and you had never been. I looked and looked but you didn't exist. It was as if you never happened. Then I got up from bed and someone said to forget about you and they shot me." He put his hand up to feel for the wound.

"Oh, sweetheart, no. Harm, it didn't happen. You were hallucinating. You've been really sick. The Admiral sent you home on Tuesday."

"Yeah, but I went back and investigated," Harm insisted, tears filling his blue eyes. "And you weren't there...you weren't..."

"No, honey, you didn't." Mac caressed his face. "You collapsed on your kitchen floor and you were there for awhile and now you've been here for awhile. You never went back to work – there's been no investigation." She could see the pain and confusion in his eyes. "It's alright – you're doing better."

"What's today? Wednesday? Thursday?"

Mac knew the best thing would be to tell him the truth but it also meant telling him he'd been left on the floor for nearly four days.

"No Harm, it 0549 Monday."

"Monday – that's nearly a week. Have I been here the whole time?"

"No, um..." The doctor came into the room. "We'll talk later. We'll let the doctor do his job first."

She jumped off the bed. "I might just take this opportunity to get a cup of coffee and make a few calls." She didn't really wait for a response, grateful for the chance to escape the awful truth.

Twenty minutes later, coffee in hand and phone calls made Mac returned to Harm. He was sitting upright and many of the tubes and wires had been disconnected. He looked so much better but his eyes were red and wet, and she knew he had been crying. As she entered the room, the doctor patted her arm, "He knows the events of the week, and he knows what could have happened and what is yet to come." Mac smiled weakly. She didn't know if she'd have had the strength to tell him.

She stood in the doorway and they stared at each other for a long while before Harm spoke. "Aren't you coming in?"

"Yes, I just wasn't sure if I was still welcome." Harm nodded. Mac went and placed the coffee on the bedside table and sat back on the bed. "Harm, everyone is so very sorry. It must seem like we don't care but we do. It's just…" She stopped when she saw the tears tumble down his cheeks.

"Harm." She put her arms around him and held him to her. She could think of nothing to say but held him close.

Eventually, Mac said, "Harm, please don't cry. I know you probably hate us and you have every right too. We all feel so bad about it, so guilty."

Harm put his hand to her mouth to stop her talking. "Mac, it's okay, the doctor explained everything. I know about the four days and it might take me awhile to get over it but I certainly don't hate any of you."

"Oh, then why…" She didn't finish her sentence but brushed away his tears.

"Commander McEntee was just explaining to me how sick I was, how he had been using words like 'if', instead of 'when'. He said how very lucky I was to have so many friends who cared, even if it was belated." Mac nodded. "Do you know what the problem is though?"

She shook her head. She knew she couldn't speak without tears.

"When I was hallucinating it was all so very real. No one knew you, no one cared about you, and no one would help me look. I kept hitting brick walls but I wouldn't accept that you weren't real. The Admiral even told me that as I was sick I had probably dreamt you and that you were nothing more than a figment of my imagination. I started to believe he might be right." Harm stopped long enough to take hold of Mac's hands, gripping them tightly. "In a frantic effort to prove him wrong I searched every square inch of my apartment for some evidence of you, but I found nothing. Not a photo, a card, a strand of hair. But…" The tears began to fall again.

Mac put her hands to his face, "Sweetheart, it's okay, you don't have to go on."

"I want to." He drew a deep breath. "I could find nothing tangible but I couldn't give you up. I tried to reason that someone as beautiful and perfect as you couldn't really exist. It just didn't account for one thing. I had nothing of yours but you had something of mine."

"What was that?"

"My heart – you were alive in my heart, you owned it."

"Oh, Harm," Mac managed through her own tears. She kissed him.

"It's not being unconscious for a week or being undiscovered for so long, it's you. As sick as I was I couldn't give up because I had to get to you. When all else was lost I knew I had to find you. When the doctor mentioned 'if' and not 'when' I realised our whole relationship has been an 'if' and not 'when'. It needs to change. My biggest regret is I could have died this week and I would never have told you that I love you. So I will do it now. Sarah, I love you. You are the love of my life. I cannot live without you knowing it. I couldn't die without telling you. You are the most important thing in my life. I love you." He leant forward and kissed her.

"I love you too," she replied breaking the kiss.

"I know I heard you, why do you think I came back?" As he kissed her again she fell into his arms and into the bed. This was what she had always wanted.

Harm's kisses grew more and more passionate. Mac pulled him closer to her but the safety rail on his bed dug deeper into her back. She called time out and repositioned herself. Harm moved himself accordingly and looked down at the woman he loved. Mac put her hands to his face and drew him back to her. The kisses were sweet and gentle. "I love you Sarah," he whispered.

"I love you too Harm," she replied in kind.

"Glad to see you're feeling better, Commander," the Admiral's voice came from nowhere.

"Thank you, sir." Harm looked up to see his CO. Mac took the opportunity to bury her head in Harm's chest.

"Colonel, good morning to you." The Admiral was enjoying this.

"Good morning, sir." Mac looked at him.

"Glad to see you two getting along so well."

"Thank you, sir," they replied in unison.

"Well, I'm going into the office so I'll leave you to it. I'd tell you to carry on but I believe that's what I interrupted." He left and Mac and Harm looked at each other in surprise.

"Do you think he'll ever let us live this down?" Mac asked.

"Probably not," he said and pulled her closer.

"We could pretend it never happened, couldn't we?" Mac suggested, snuggling in.

"Do you honestly want to do that? Pretend it never happened?" Harm asked, already knowing the answer.

"Never. It took us so long to get here and I'm never going to let you go," she said, clinging onto his gown.

"Is that a promise, Sarah?" Mac reached up and pulled him back to her.

Her kiss was answer enough.

_The End_

_------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ _

_**Thanks for joining me on this ride, as most of you know these longer stories have been posted elsewhere before and I'm polishing them up before putting them on this site. If you check out my portfolio you'll realise I have posted a LOT of JAG stories and therefore my stockpile of stories is now quite diminished. I have about 10 left, two deal with main character death, one regards a main character dealing with depression, one dealing with cancer. Are people interested in reading them or not? My stories are generally Happily Ever After ones and I don't want to go upsetting people unnecessarily (AND YES CLIFF HANGERS ARE NECESSARY! LOL). Let me know!**_

_**Thanks again**_

_**Nettie **_


End file.
